


Improper Proposal

by TheRussianKat



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Not quite the perfect night, Snowed In, but pretty damn close, snowstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2797040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRussianKat/pseuds/TheRussianKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac has everything planned, but the weather doesn't seem to be on his side</p>
            </blockquote>





	Improper Proposal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MacPherson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacPherson/gifts).



Courfeyrac scowled as the snow fluttered down on the other side of the window.

“I found candles!” his boyfriend called from the doorway, pulling Courf’s attention from the snow which had ultimately ruined his plans. Trying to hide the annoyance on his face he turned to Combeferre who was triumphantly holding the candles he had found in the Musains back storeroom.

“Great!” he called back, wincing at the sarcasm in lilting his voice.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist pulling him against a solid chest “Why are you sulking?” Combeferre whispered his breath tickling the smaller man’s ear.

“I’m not sulking,” Courf pouted letting himself relax into the warmth of his boyfriends embrace.

“We are trapped in a coffee shop and you haven’t suggested anything even remotely unwise. In conclusion my dear, you,” he placed a kiss on top of Courfs curls “are sulking.”

Courf huffed and reluctantly pulled himself out of his boyfriend’s arms. Turning around he took Combeferre’s hands and gently placed them on his own hips eliciting a snort of laughter from Combeferre “Classy,” laughed the spectacled man.

“Always,” quipped Courf as he wrapped his own arms around his boyfriend’s neck. Sighing, he began toying with the collar of the medical student’s shirt “I’m sorry tonight was ruined,” he said quietly, eyes focused on his feet.

“It’s not ruined,” Comebeferre chastised lifting Courf’s chin so he could see his eyes “We have wine, candles,” he leant in resting their foreheads together “stale bread products. I think this may be the most romantic date we’ve ever had.”

Laughing softly Courf added “More romantic than Valentine’s day?”

“Well, I do notice a distinct lack of clowns so yes, much more romantic than Valentines,” he placed a soft kiss on the smaller man’s lips smiling as they both chased a deeper kiss. But before it could get _too_ deep Combeferre broke away smirking at Courf’s renewed pout “It’s just us Courf, me and you, I don’t think anything could make this better to be honest.”

Suddenly Courfeyrac pulled away causing the taller man to stumble as Courf gently pushed him away. “Courf? What’s going on?”

The curly haired man bustled around the café lighting the candles calling over his shoulder “Just turn around, close your eyes and stay exactly where you are.”

“Please tell me this doesn’t involve clowns,” Combeferre said as he followed his boyfriends requests.

Courfeyrac didn’t answer.

Keeping his eyes closed Combeferre tried to stop his hands shaking. He hated surprise. Well, no, that wasn’t strictly true. He told people he hated surprises and that allowed him to plan his life with little to no drama, but then he met Enjolras and Courfeyrac, and then following them in quick succession the rest of the Amis; and his life didn’t just experience drama anymore it became drama. And no matter how he tried to deny it, he wouldn’t change it for anything. Truth be told he now found himself eagerly anticipating all the little surprises his boyfriend enjoyed throwing his way.

 But something about this felt different.

Courfeyrac was many things, but subtle did not made the list. This was unplanned but at the same time he got the distinct feeling it wasn’t. ‘ _He couldn’t plan a snow storm, you know that’_ a small voice in the back of his head reminded him, sounding disturbingly like Enjolras.

He was seized from his reverie as a warm set of fingers entwined themselves with his. “I want you to keep your eyes closed,” Courfeyrac whispered placing a kiss on the other man’s knuckles.

Combeferre nodded, focusing on the warmth coursing through his hand as Courfeyrac gently ran his thumb up and down his index finger.

A soft laugh escaped Courfeyrac before he continued to speak “I had tonight all planned. I got us a table at La Tour D’Argent and I was going to order champagne and we would be that couple everyone hated because we got the best view of the city. We were going to spend the whole night just letting the world pass around us while we, I don’t know, reminisce? There was going to be candle light, a string quartet and I was going to sweep you off your feet so you couldn’t say anything except yes.”

Combeferre’s heart was in his throat. The hand which had been holding his was gone, which was good because if Courf had still been holding his hand he may have noticed how much he was shaking now.

“Open your eyes.”

Slowly he opened his eyes. The room was no longer dark. The snow could still be seen swirling in flurries outside, the shadows dancing across the Musain floor but the few candles they had scavenged had been arranged on the surrounding table and lit, bathing them a warm amber glow. It was beautiful.

Though it was nothing in comparison to the man knelt on one knee before him, a small blue velvet box clasped in his hand. “Courf?” his voice came out hoarse and quiet.

The smaller man caught his gaze, and he blinked, the light in his eyes burning brighter than Combeferre had ever seen it. “Marry me?”

 

* * *

 

 

They woke up entwined in each other arms. Having finally found freedom from the Musain just past midnight they had truly ‘celebrated’ their engagement more than once upon returning to their apartment. Now it was almost midday and neither could really bring themselves to leave the warm white sheets and face the no-doubt cold outside world.

It wasn’t until Combeferre finally checked his phone and saw the avalanche of texts he had received during the night that they considered leaving their save cocoon of bedroom. “Courf,” he said softly placing a kiss on his fiancé’s curls as he began to look through the texts “You haven’t told anyone yet have you?”

The smaller man laughed, scooting around in Combeferre's arms so they were face to face “Not yet, but I’m planning a small parade for when I do, why?” he said catching the other man’s lips in a light kiss.

Humming in appreciation as Courf tried to deepen the kiss Combeferre reluctantly pushed him away “I have over fifty texts, I assumed they were congratulations.”

The blissful smile on the curly haired man’s face fell slightly as he went to grab his own phone from the side table. Opening the first message his smile lit up once more, brighter than it had been before “Oh this is brilliant,” he said as he started opening the rest.

“What do you mean?” Combeferre asked looking up from his own phone “Mine are all drunken texts from Joly.”

“Enjolras got snowed in with Grantaire last night.”

 

* * *

 

 

The snow had started falling again by the time they reached Enjolras’s apartment. “What if he doesn’t approve?” Courf fretted as they approached the door “What if that’s why he was weird when he buzzed us in?”

Wrapping an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, Combeferre kissed the top of Courfeyracs curls “He’ll be delighted, he’s probably just annoyed we made him get out of bed when it’s cold.”

Courfeyrac was not convinced, this however did not hinder his enthusiastic knocking at his friends door.

They only had to wait a few moments before a thoroughly bedheaded Enjolras opened the door, making no effort to look pleased to see his oldest friends. The blonde simply left the door open allowing the couple to follow him through the apartment and into the kitchen. “Coffee?” he offered as they took their regular seats at the table.

Once all three had a steaming cup of coffee in front of them and it became apparent Enjolras had no intention of changing out of the tatty sweatshirt and pyjama bottoms he was wearing, Enjolras stated “So what happened? You two haven’t looked this excited since that Bill Nye book signing last year,” his tone light but eyes searching.

The couple looked at each other for a moment both ecstatic to see matching grins on the other’s face. Taking Courfeyrac’s hand Combeferre turned to Enjolras, still smiling, and said “We are engaged.”

For a moment Enjolras stared at them, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “Engaged?” he said quietly.

They nodded in affirmation. “That’s fantastic,” Enjolras smiled “That’s fan-bloody-tastic!” he jumped out of his chair and almost flung himself at the happy couple, the three of them quickly devolving into a happy mess of limbs.

“You don’t hate us?” Courfeyrac laughed as he pulled out of the group hug slightly.

Enjolras seemed to consider this for a moment before lightly slapping the curls bouncing on top of his friends head “Of course not, I’ve been waiting for this for months!”

The three friends were so distracted by their joy they didn’t notice the fourth person enter the kitchen wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer shorts and a slightly too large vest.

 

Combeferre was the first to notice.

“Grantaire?” he asked, causing the two men practically hanging off him to look up. Courfeyrac gave a whelp of surprise at the sight of the half-awake artist. Enjolras on the other hand looked substantially more awake than he had upon their arrival. His cheeks were steadily reddening as his friends gaze turned from Grantaire back to him, both smirking.

“It’s a funny story you know,” Enjolras started.


End file.
